The Morning After
by kaela097
Summary: Chuck and Blair wake up the morning after their wedding day to a new life.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cecily von Zeigesar and The CW.**

**As promised, here is my New Year's gift to all of you. For those of you that have just finished Hostile Engagement and looking for the continuation of their wedding should read my very first published story - "The First Day of the Rest of His Life". Though be kind as their are slight differences. Then you'll want to read "A Night to Remember" as this picks up the next morning. There are also references to "Letting Her Go" in this story. I know shameless plugs, but I cannot resist.**

**I must give credit to 'They Will Not Control Us' for the seed that was planted many months ago for this idea.**

Chuck awoke sometime in the afternoon. His blushing bride was tucked in tight at his side, still fast asleep. Every muscle in his body was screaming in protest, but he forced his finger to brush the hair off his wife's face.

"His wife," he thought as a wide smile spread across his face. The previous day rushed back into his mind. The minister's pronouncement that he may kiss his bride . . . again replayed in his mind over and over again.

Finally they were married. He couldn't even put into words how different everything felt to him. It was a ridiculous notion. The only thing that really changed in the previous day was that she was now bound to him legally, but in his mind everything had changed. He wasn't alone anymore.

No matter how hard they all pretended, the van der Woodsen's weren't his family, but they weren't mere acquaintances either. After all these years, he still didn't know how he fit into that group. With Blair, he knew. He was her husband until death do they part.

The past six years together had been an incredibly rewarding and fulfilling journey, but he was even more eager for this new life they'd started together. Their entire future laid out before them. There were so many possibilities. They could have the children as they'd fleetingly discussed over the years. His agreement to wait six months into their marriage before bringing up children was still fresh in his mind, but he didn't intend to wait too much longer.

His thoughts were disturbed as Blair began to hum in satisfaction as she began to rouse from her slumber.

"What time is it?" she mumbled as she nudged her nose against his bare chest in an effort to snuggle in closer to him, it if was even possible.

"I have no idea," he shrugged as his open hand brushed along the cool skin at her back. Somewhere during the night their bed sheets had been cast to the floor. The only thing keeping them warm was their shared body heat. Had he had the ability to move, he would have rose from the bed to locate the covers, but his body would not follow even the simplest of commands just yet.

"Can you move, Bass?" she inquired as her aching muscles began to throb as she awoke further from her deep slumber.

"Barely," he groaned.

"How many times did we make love last night?" she groaned along with him. She couldn't believe that was the cause of their discomfort, but it was the only explanation that made sense.

"I lost count as the clock struck midnight," he chuckled, "You?"

"Far earlier than that," she grinned as she began to take in their lush surroundings. "Where are we anyways?"

"A private island in the Rivera," he told her, "Far enough from innocent ears who could overhear my beautiful bride's surprisingly unladylike curses of euphoria in the throes of passion, but close enough to ferry in a staff to ensure we do not starve."

"This ferry better include maid services," she hissed her warning, "I may be your wife, but I am most definitely not your servant."

"Not to worry, Beautiful," he assured her as his fingers lightly caressed her bruised lips, additional proof that they had certainly outdone themselves the previous evening. "All your wants and desires will be taken care of. I promise."

"I desire you," she spoke seductively as her eyes mirrored her unbridled need for him. "But right now that looks to be a little like 'Mission Impossible'. We've never had a night like that . . . ever."

"Hard to believe," he agreed with a nod, "Marriage must inspire me."

"Can it inspire you out of bed?" she challenged him, "I'm in need of sustenance."

"It's worth a try," he nodded as he disentangled their limbs and attempted to sit up. He groaned like an old man while his stomach muscles screamed in protest, but he actually managed to sit upright. He took his turn at looking around to survey their lavish surroundings. Everything was as he insisted it to be when he'd made the arrangements months ago, so that it would meet with the standards his wife would have demanded. He smiled again at the words that floated through his mind as she swung his legs off the bed. Standing hurt a million times more than sitting, but they had to move. He turned towards her slowly and pulled her out of bed as a delectable pout graced her flawless features.

"No breakfast in bed?" she batted her eyelashes at him.

"I believe our bed is in need of a reprieve, almost as much as we are," he suggested. He could practically see the stream arising from the bed frame caused by their intensive workout the previous evening. He turned away from his bride reluctantly to open the closet doors to see the satin robes he'd requested to be hanging inside.

"Robes, really?" she rolled her eyes as she propped herself up against the bed, "Seems a little intrusive for a Waldorf-Bass honeymoon."

"I'd thought about that, but it's also the only way we'll be able to feast on anything but each other," he told her as he gingerly found his way into his robe before tying the sash around his waist. She pouted once more as he was now fully covered.

"Feasting on each other is fun," she told him as he helped her into her own robe.

"Feasting off each other is fun," he corrected her, "Cannibalism, even to Chuck Bass, is frowned upon, especially on his honeymoon."

"Referring to yourself in third person," she threw her head back and laughed as she wrapped her arms around his midsection and pulled him tight to her, "It's been awhile since I've heard that."

"Sustenance awaits," he told her as he guided her towards the open bedroom door and into the sunroom where a plentiful assortment of pastries awaited them.

They ate in companionable silence for several minutes as the events from the previous day floated through their heads. Blair's eyes were swimming in happiness.

"Has this sunk in yet?" she inquired as she reached for his ringed hand and spun his ring around his finger slowly. She smiled at how natural his new wedding band looked on his hand.

He nodded his answer as he tossed a question back at her, "Was the day everything you imagined it would be? You have been dreaming and planning for this day for well over a decade."

"Better than imagined," she smiled blissfully as she leaned over to kiss his smiling lips, "Starting with the man I married."

"The day itself," he pressed on as his lips lingered against hers, "Was there anything you would have done differently?"

"The meltdown I had when I realized I'd forgotten my necklace in your safe," she cringed at the memory as she sat back. She'd definitely crossed over into bridezella territory in those moments. "Fortunately, you sent Nate to my rescue."

She paused suddenly as if there was something she wanted to tell him, but couldn't find the words.

"There's something else," he prompted her as he reached out to take her hand into his, bringing it to his lips to kiss lightly for encouragement.

"I wish Cyrus could have been there," she sighed as the sadness suddenly took hold. She'd been so focused on the wedding after his death that she hadn't taken the time to really process her stepfather's loss.

"And my parents," he choked out. "Thank you for the flowers you left my mother."

"How did you know?" she gasped in surprise. It was not a detail of their wedding that they had discussed beforehand. She'd been planning it for several weeks leading up to their big day. She had wanted to honor those loved ones unable to be there, but in a private way. There was no way he could have known what she had in mind.

"I went to talk to them," he explained, "I haven't been to their graves since I first came to terms with my love for you. I guess I was looking for closure."

"Did you find any?" she inquired as she freed her hand to caress his shoulder gently as she rose up from her chair to seat herself in his lap.

"Some," he nodded slightly as his arms came around her waist as he buried his head in her bosom.

Blair ran her fingers through his hair, trying to offer the comfort he needed. The loss of his parents was still very much a part of him even though it had been several years since Bart's death and so many more since Evelyn's. Cyrus's loss was still fresh in her mind, but her pain wasn't anything close to what her husband was still dealing with.

"You're not alone," she whispered in his ear as his shoulders began to shake as he sobbed against her. "I'll be with you, always."

Before she could process what was happening, he lifted her onto the table and removed both of their robes. The stiff muscles he'd felt earlier were apparently a distant memory as he proceeded to make love to her for the umpteenth time.

* * *

"I like you like this," she told him after he'd carried her back to bed and tucked the blankets around her. As they lay on the table after making love, it was a shiver on her part that stirred him to action. "So concerned and protective. It's very sexy."

"And necessary. I will not allow my wife to be ill on our honeymoon," he cautioned her.

Blair took that as a cue to begin fake coughing into her closed hand. Chuck was clearly not amused by the scowl he tossed in her direction.

"No sense of humor," she muttered as she snuggled further under the covers while returning his scowl with one of her own. Her response was actually a relief to the new husband. There was a tiny fear inside him that worried that marriage would change their relationship, that she would somehow turn into the robotic Upper East Side housewife, he'd turn into the work obsessed husband, and the only relations they would have would be for the need to procreate. Her current scowl of displeasure told him that their relationship would remain the same.

His laugh caused her to jump in surprise as her eyes widened. Laughter was not the response she was prepared for. She'd expected a few more witty barbs to be traded back and forth before their passion was reignited and he'd join her in bed as their honeymoon continued.

"Still able to surprise you," he continued to chuckle as he laid himself out next to her over the bedcovers he'd just tucked her into.

"Explain yourself, Bass," she hissed as he pecked at her nose teasingly.

"We're still Blair and Chuck," he told her simply.

"What did you expect us to be?" she inquired as she scrunched up her face in confusion.

"You're going to think my thoughts are silly," he told her bashfully.

"Try me," she demanded as the flames in her angry eyes began to build at his evasive answer.

"Describe the relationship your parents had before they decided to divorce," Chuck challenged her.

"Combative," she retorted, "Sort of like us at the moment." Her answer was short and to the point. She didn't like were this conversation was heading. Divorce was not a word that was to be uttered not even twenty-four hours after they'd made their vows to be together for the rest of their lives.

"Before the yelling and screaming started," he clarified.

"Superficial," she sighed, "To the outside world, happy and the picture of perfection, at home, cold and distant, no real sparks of passion."

"And that is what I remember of the only real married relationship I was able to observe between Captain Archibald and his wife," Chuck agreed. "In the back of my mind, there was a sliver of fear that perhaps these rings on our fingers would turn us into those people. In a way, I guess my fear of commitment came from those observations. The Captain's life seemed dull and uninteresting. He woke up every morning, dressed for the office, and then went to work. He'd return home for dinner, disappear into his study until he went to bed. There was a certain timeliness about it that scared me, so I set out to be the complete opposite of that.

"Bart, on the other hand, cast one woman aside after another. His life didn't seem as mundane. He dressed for the office everyday, but the office was all across the globe. The work didn't interest me, but the womanizing, jet-setting way of life did. So I became a less responsible version of my father. It didn't take me long to realize that my father's life was just as dull and lifeless as the Captain's. I figured that I was destined for lifetime of unhappiness no matter which path I chose, so I went with the one that seemed to offer the most sex."

Blair slapped his chest in response, but he continued on.

"Watching you with Nathaniel was like watching a rerun of his parent's relationship, but when he was out of the room or his attention was turned elsewhere, I saw something in you. There was this fire inside of you that appeared to be screaming for a release," he explained.

"Which you were only to happy to do," she smirked at the memory that was stirring of her first night with Chuck in his cherished limo.

"Nathaniel never saw the real you because you never allowed yourself to be real around him. That dance you did for me that night was more than just you not backing down from a challenge, it was about your need to finally break free from your self-oppression. That fire that I saw inside of you was mercifully released before you let me take your virtue. I couldn't have allowed myself to be with you any other way," he added.

"Allowed yourself," she snorted in amusement, "I didn't know Chuck Bass had standards back then."

"You were always different to me. You know that," he responded as he kissed her cheek softly, "But when you went back to Nathaniel so easily, I thought perhaps I was wrong. I thought the treasured few weeks we shared afterwards were just simply your need to scratch a newly discovered itch. Once he was willing to take my place, I was cast aside, and the rerun of his parents' relationship picked up from its winter hiatus."

"But you had wormed your way in," she picked up where he was leaving off, "You were always there, lurking around every dark corner, threatening to shatter what I thought was happiness. My only wish was that you had succeeded sooner, and held on a little tighter."

"Mine too," he nodded as the sadness and regret filled his eyes, "I took things too far. I hurt you in ways that seem inconceivable to me now."

"That's the past, Bass," she told him as she stroked his cheek, "We're done with all of that. We put all that aside a long time ago."

"Maybe you put it aside," he told her as he captured her hand and began kissing it softly, "But I'm Chuck Bass. Self-loathing is what I've always done best. If only you knew how often I still think about those days."

"Stop," she requested, "Don't let that pain eat away at you any longer. We're here now, right where we're suppose to be. We're married and happy and ready to take on the world together."

"Look out world," he chuckled slightly.

"It doesn't stand a chance," she smirked, "Nothing and nobody will ever stand a chance against us."

"It seemed too easy," he sighed.

"It wasn't," she replied, "It was painful and messy and at times tragic, but everything that we went through brought us to this place. Stop looking back like Nate and look forward with me."

"Like Nate," he repeated in surprise. Her mentioning his best friend and her ex-boyfriend in that context surprised him. "What does he have to do with this?"

Blair's eyes showed her sudden panic. She never intended to reveal what had happened the previous day when Chuck sent him to ride to her rescue with Chuck's touching gift, but now she had no way out.

"Yesterday when he brought me the necklace he revealed a few things that lead me to the conclusion that his mind is still stuck back in high school," she tried to explain without going into detail.

"You're going to have to do better than that," he told her. Her avoidance of answering the question told him that what she was holding back was something he needed to know.

"He told me that he always thought it would be him and I getting married instead of you and me. That even though you and I were together and happy that somehow we'd have found ourselves together." Chuck forced air through his flaring nostrils like a bull ready to charge. "It would never have happened. You and I were always destined to be together. I made sure he realized that. Even when he suggested the possibility of running away together . . ."

Chuck's heavy breathing as the rage continued to build momentarily disturbed her thoughts. His face was red with anger and he was unconsciously closing and unclosing his fists as he looked around for an outlet to vent his rage.

"Look at me," she demanded as she captured his face in her hands and forced him to look into her eyes. "I shot him down, quickly. I wouldn't even allow for the possibility because you are the only man I can ever see myself happy with, and that is what life is about. You have shown me that. You're right. Nate and I were the rerun of his parents and mine. My life would have been stuck on repeat, but you showed me the alternative. There was no going back after that."

"You tried," he growled.

"Because you kept taking the alternative away from me," she told him gently as tears washed down her checks. "Look at where we are, Bass. Look around this room, to the wedding dress carefully hung over the chair, to the tuxedo pieces strewn across the floor. We're on our honeymoon, you and me, not me and Nate. He could have thrown me over his shoulder and carried me out of the church, but I would have found a way back to you. I told Nate he needed to let me go because I had let him go a long time ago."

"You do realize that Nate would have been the safer option," Chuck replied in a whisper.

"He was not the safer option," she contradicted him, "Not when it came to my heart. We've had six years together and never once have I doubted the safety of leaving it in your possession. What we have is special and unique. You can still get my blood boiling mad, but when that steam needs to be released I only want you to be the one to release it."

"You were never going to tell me about this, were you," he realized as he tried to wipe away the tears he'd inadvertently caused.

"You never needed to know," she replied simply, "What good would it have done? If I told you, the only thing I could foresee was your fist connecting with Nate's jaw. You're brothers in every way that matters like Serena is a sister to me. To be happy we need our best friends in our lives as much as we need each other. I wanted to preserve that friendship not for Nate's sake, but for yours."

"You must really love me," he concluded.

"Was that ever in dispute?" she smiled. The tears glistened in her eyes, but her happiness was real.

"I'm going to need time before I can be in the same room with him," Chuck told her as he wiped away the last of her tears.

"No reconciliation dinners, check," she made a mental note, "It's not as if we're going to have much time anyways. Life is going to be crazy when we find our way back to Manhattan, and any free moment that we have I'm certain will be spent in bed. We are who we are."

"Two people with a ridiculous need to feast off of the other," he laughed.

"We may have started a new life together, but we still get to hang onto what made the old one so great," she smiled mischievously as her clear invitation was offered up.

"To our new life," he toasted as he pulled the bedcovers off her body and climbed over her. His outlet for his considerably dimmed rage had been selected. He would continue to satisfy her until any possible thought of Nate left her mind for good.

**The End.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this one shot. Please let me know.**


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